4. Dissension

The journey back to Sten's village ended up being extensive but rather uneventful. When you arrived back you were relieved to find there were less casualties than you had expected after Ulf's attack. It seems it was more of a divergence in order to secure you for the now deceased King. Over the next couple of weeks you continue working on your fighting and shooting whenever Sten is free. Occasionally, you'll spar with others for practice but don't feel they take your training as seriously as he does. They at least have been showing you more respect since your return. Still, you've been finding yourself looking forward to the small moments of solitude you carve out from time to time. Over the past few days, those moments have started becoming scarcer, and you feel yourself growing restless. It's still dark out, as you lay in bed thinking about the day ahead. Sten will be busy attending to business about town, which, you don't mind as you're not feeling up to sparring today. Your body is slightly sore from the last bout, yet, still uncomfortably restless. After a moment, you get out of bed and walk over to the window. Dawn will be approaching soon, and with it the hustle and bustle of the town. Staring out the window, towards the forest line, you feel the restless feeling steadily increase.

Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes hover on Sten's sleeping form briefly before moving on to your cloak. In a few moments, you're dressed, and quietly slipping out of the door. There's a light, cool, breeze in the air, however, it's the stillness that you appreciate the most. Inhaling deeply, your steps quicken slightly as you make your way to the stables. Hopefully, Sten won't mind you borrowing his horse for the day as he shouldn't need it. You're already well into the forests interior when sunrise finally arrives and soft rays of sunlight begin peaking through the foliage. The short ride you had planned quickly changes into a long excursion deeper into the forests center. It's slightly past noon when you finally bring the horse to a stop and dismount. After securing him to a fallen tree, you begin exploring the area while the horse rests. Deep green moss covers the bottom of halves of the large tree trunks surrounding you. The moss runs down along the majority of the forest floor and softens your footsteps. You continue making your way forward and your ears start to pick up on a strangely familiar sound. Something in the back of your mind stirs as a strange wave of nostalgia washes over you. Though it's been a while, you recognize the Latin words of a prayer often said during church service. After pausing for a moment, you're able to discern the voice is coming from around a cluster of trees up ahead.

Softly making your way forward, you cautiously take a peak around the trees to the clearing a few feet below. In addition to the familiarity of the prayer, you find you also recognize the speaker. Knelt below you, facing eastward, is the foreign Knight you had run into all those weeks ago. His helmet is tucked under his arms, and his head is slightly bowed down as he keeps reciting in Latin. You continue watching him until he ends and crosses his hand over his body before rising. Quickly stepping back, you decide it's best not to get involved no matter how curious you are. Keeping your footsteps light, you start quietly making your way back to your horse. "Hold there!" Your heart drops when the familiar voice calls out behind you, in your native tongue no less. Wincing slightly, you take a deep breath before slowly turning around. The Knight has put his helmet back on but lifted the visor, revealing his inquisitive, green, eyes. "I recognize you." For the first time you note the large sword sheathed to his side and your current lack of weapon. Glancing over to the side, you wonder how quickly you could get to your horse, and weapon, if you needed to. "What are you doing here?" You finally ask after looking back over at him. He pauses for a moment while his eyes sweep over you before replying, "I should ask you the same thing." It would be a fair to question to ask you must admit.

Nevertheless, you cross your arms before somewhat childishly retorting, "I asked you first." A slightly amused look comes over his face and you're relieved to hear him concede. That relief fades slightly when he goes on to explain he's accompanying the church on a mission to help convert unbelievers. It seems they're only passing through on their way to Kievan Rus but decided to do a little proselytizing during their stay here. To your knowledge there are no Christians in this land and you wonder how serious the Church takes it mission to convert people. Keeping this worry to yourself, you give him a heavily edited version of your immigration to this new nation. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet a good, God-fearing, woman in this wretch hole." It takes a great deal of effort to suppress any disdain from showing on your face after his statement. Your native country had bee mostly Christianized before your departure, which, is likely why he presumes your religious stance. Not bothering to confirm or deny his assumption, you instead deflect with a question. "And how long is your stay here... Sir Edric, was it?" His expression remains somewhat stern as he nods in affirmation to your question.

Their vessel had taken on some damage during their voyage and it seems the repairs are taking longer than they had anticipated. "We were turned away from the capital but heard word of a village on the south side of this forest." Your back prickles slightly to this news as you know Sten's village is the only southward lying settlement in this area. "I'm not sure my husb-hospitors would be receptive to that sort of thing." The correction in your words surprises you but you brush it aside as you wait for his answer. As Edric's light, green, eyes slowly study your own, a slight shiver runs down your spine. Though nothing has perceivably changed, there's a slightly uncomfortable tension in the air. "Do you not see it as your sublunary duty to save those condemned souls?" His voice has lowered slightly and the unseen stress in the air seems to grow. The forest becomes increasingly still as his words seem to hang in the air in front of you. "Where's your retinue?" Edric appears momentarily caught off guard by your question before standing slightly straighter. "Waiting, while I scout ahead." You've picked up enough from your lessons with Sten to recognize when Edric tenses slightly. Trying to keep your gaze from slipping down to his sword you continue staring into his intense, almost litigious, gaze. The stillness around you only seems to amplify as you remain caught in the deep pull of his stare.

Finally, your eyes break away and when you glance down, you make note of a fallen tree branch a few feet away from your anxious form. Your eyes quickly shift back over to the Knight when he you hear him take a step forward. "It's a strange path God has lead you on." His eyes slightly drift down your body before he quickly looks back and continues, "But you don't have to continue down it anymore." Your back stiffens again at his words and you can't suppress the look of annoyance that flashes across your face. "Why would I do that?." Edric's eyebrow cocks slightly at your question and he shifts slightly in his plated mail. Feigning as if you're causally stretching, you take a step closer to the tree branch to your left before replying, "I mean, if I left, who else would be here to preach to these... poor souls." The Knights eyes narrow slightly and he takes another step forward. "I thought you said they weren't 'receptive to that sort of thing'." Realizing your mistake, you bite the inside of your lip as the different choices before you real through your mind. Edric's hand moves down slightly towards the sword banded to his waist and makes the decision for you. Lunging forward, you quickly grab the branch on the ground before Edric can unsheathe sword. Holding it trepidatiously in your hands, you turn to face the now armed Knight. "Do you think you have a chance against me?" You're annoyed to hear the slightly amused tone in his voice as he obverses you. Not dignifying him with an answer you instead grip the piece of wood tighter as he steps forward. Your eyes follow his hand as it reaches down and grasps the hilt of sword.